How little imagination is there in Hollywood? You’d think with all that money they could do original work.
As the saying goes, “There are a million stories in the naked city,” yet Hollywood keeps repeating the same old tired ones!
There is another Fast and Furious, up to #7. I will tell you, I’m seven behind in the series.
I think it’s far past time to put a “DNR” note on this franchise, particularly since one of the main characters is dead.
As Yahoo tells it:
At its piston-pumping heart, the Fast and Furious franchise is an old-fashioned jalopy. Evil is punished. Family is celebrated — maybe even fetishized, but here is not the place for me to get cynical. (Although let me just say, this clan messes with the adage that “You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family.” This family is self-selecting: Do none of these people have troublesome mothers? Disapproving fathers? Siblings who are pains in the butt?) In these films, honorable loyalty is rewarded. Good driving is respected as a function of good character. Parenthood is saluted as a higher calling than saving the world from nefarious villains armed with dastardly Intel encrypted on easy-to-lose thumb drives. Spiritual awareness of a respectfully unpushy, vaguely Catholic sort is always present — the grace before meals, the churches, the genuflecting, the silver cross jewelry reverently passed from hand to hand, the chalices of Corona.
It’s all so good, this fastness and fury. Now step out of the race, say a prayer, and let it go.
